Painkillers
by icylemonsquash
Summary: Scorpius has a special way of making Rose forget about her latest quidditch injury – even if he was responsible for said injury.


_**AN: Hey all! I've been absent for a while… This piece was something I found in my archives, and I just did a little bit of editing and put it up here. Hope you like it, because I know goofy scorose is my fave.**_

 _ **xxicls**_

* * *

"Oh _fuck! Rose!_ _ **ROSE!**_ "

Abruptly, everything went black.

More blackness.

A dull, heavy throbbing in the back of my head.

A whisper: "Rosie?"

Huh?

"She's moving! Thank Merlin, she's moving."

" _POTTER!_ What did I say about noise? OUT!"

"But Madame, the bludger-"

It was another voice this time; "She was knocked out cold!"

Hmmm.

"Out! _NOW."_

Grumbles. Whispers. Words.

My sleepy brain processed little of this.

I woke up due to a repetitive prodding in my left arm. I groaned.

"Rosie!"

That familiar voice had taken on such a different tone. The ever-present drawl was suddenly... Worried.

"Hngh?"

I slipped my eyes open just a crack, and registered... Nothing. Just the emptiness of the hospital wing.

Just a dream, then.

Groaning, I let my eyes flutter close.

"ROSIE!" the voice exclaimed, and I instantly felt the speed of the throbbing in my head pick up in speed. "You're awake!"

My eyes shot open, wide as they could go, and I utilized the little mobility my neck currently possessed to look around, waiting for my hazy vision to focus.

The air shimmered, silvery and fluid, and suddenly Scorpius Malfoy stood before me, holding Albus' invisibility cloak, an insanely foreign worried expression on his aristocratic face. I let out a croaky shout of laughter.

His eyes widened even more, and he looked like he was extremely frightened for my health.

He cursed, mumbling something about having caused brain damage.

I attempted to shout out indignantly, but all that left my dry throat was a very hoarse "aaaigh!" Immediately, a glass of water was thrust into my field of vision, and I accepted it gratefully, trying to push myself up into a sitting position.

Hands immediately reached out to help me, careful to keep my heavy head from banging on the bed's headboard. I smiled up at him sleepily, and his worried expression relaxed ever so slightly. I took a sip of the refreshingly cool water. I glanced at him, as he towered over me, casting a long shadow on the white blankets. "What are you doing here?"

Then I paused. "What am I doing here?"

He looked at me guiltily. "I may have accidentally - very accidentally - shot a bludger at your head."

I sighed. I did vaguely remember the dull thwack of the heavy wooden ball meeting my skull. And also Malfoy's loud swearing.

"And I just came to see if you were alright."

I grinned sleepily to myself. How nice of him.

He looked at me oddly, tilting his head. "You must be on painkillers," he noted, observing my smile.

I blearily waved him off. "Imoraite," I smiled sleepily, still rather pleased that Scorpius had come all the way down to the hospital wing to me.

He grimaced, watching me carefully as I tried to get comfortable. He quickly offered me his arm, which I gratefully took as I adjusted my position on the bed.

"I'm sorry," he abruptly said.

I raised my brows. Scorpius didn't apologise - to anyone - often.

"I was aiming the bludger at Goyle, really. Then you popped up out nowhere and got distracted and then I just hit the bludger without thinking and I guess I involuntarily hit it where I was looking and I'm terribly sorry for all the pain you're going through I mean you just fell off your broom and you looked so lifeless I just had to come and check if you were alive and I guess you are-"

I laughed - he was rambling and it was so odd to see him so... perturbed.

"You were looking at me?" I asked, raising my brows, a teasing smile on my face.

"Well, yeah-"

I smiled again, and he sighed.

"That entire heartfelt apology, and that's all you care about?"

"I distracted you," I teased, and my voice had taken on a sing-song tone. I drummed my fingers against the smooth surface of the glass as he shifted uncomfortably. "Me," I reinforced, smiling smugly. It then occurred to me that Scorpius was probably right about the painkillers, judging by the hazy quality my mind had taken on.

"Was it my beautiful red curls flying in the wind?" I needled. "Oh no, maybe it was the way my freckles shone in the sunlight, almost like glitter?" I invented wildly, still grinning. It was incredibly improbable that my frizzy mane and my speckled skin attracted him in any way, but it was always fun to take the mick out of Scorpius. He was so bad with emotions, and it was highly amusing watching him squirm.

Anyway, after two years of sad, shameless fancying, I had learnt not to let false hope get to me. But if I actually had distracted him... It was well worth the bludger hit, if you know what I mean.

"Brain damage," he muttered.

"Little ol Rosie distracted the mighty Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy, beater extraordinaire?"

"Shut up, Rose."

"Oh come on, Scorpy-"

"Rose," he warned.

"I'm still waiting for an answer," I sang obnoxiously.

"What do you think the answer is, Rose?" he asked sharply, and his voice had abruptly taken on a much more serious tone. He grabbed a nearby chair and sat next to me. "Come on, let's have a discussion."

Uh-oh. Whenever Scorpius sat down to 'have a discussion', he meant business. I shifted on the creaky bed uncomfortably, afraid that I had crossed some previously non-existant line.

"Erm-"

"Do you think you distracted me, Rose?" he asked again, scowling. "Flying on your stupid broom with your stupid curly hair in a ponytail and your cheeks all flushed and pink-"

At this point I didn't quite know if he was trying to insult me or pay me a compliment. I mean, the literal words he was saying sounded nice, but he sure didn't look happy. To be honest, he seemed pretty pissed.

"Why're you pissed?" I mumbled sleepily, frowning. "I was only joking."

He sighed deeply, and I distracted myself by gingerly feeling the bandage wrapped around my head. I flinched when I touched a particularly sensitive area.

"I am pissed," he grumbled, "because you," he looked away pointedly, seeming frustrated, "are a clueless idiot."

"You hit someone in your own team on the head with a bludger, and now you're calling me an idiot?!" I exclaimed incredulously, my sleepiness ebbing away quickly. "What the hell?"

The throbbing picked up speed – it seemed that the painkillers were fading.

Boo hoo.

"Look, I'm sorry, I'll just go-"

"No!" I said stubbornly. "Tell me what you meant!"

He pursed his lips, and I saw his eyes flicker to the bandage wrapped around my head.

"You won't want to hear it."

"You have no idea what I want to hear, Scorpius," I said truthfully.

He stood before me, fiddling with the cloak as if he desired nothing more than to vanish under it.

"What was that supposed to mean, then?" he asked lamely.

"Don't change the subject," I warned. My hazy mind was clearing up, and I wasn't about to let Scorpius get away with his cryptic nonsense.

He sighed.

"You distracted me," he admitted defeatedly, and I shifted on the bed, unconsciously leaning toward him to hear him better. Realising this, he moved his chair forward, but crossed his arms, withdrawing into his lean frame. "You do it all the time, in fact," he continued.

I didn't understand. "What?"

Thr-ob. Thr-ob.

Ouch.

He took a deep breath, like he was steadying himself. "Look Rosie, I know we're just friends-"

"Best friends," I corrected him automatically, thinking of how Al, Scorpius and I had stuck together since that very first boat ride to the castle.

He smiled, and my heart fluttered.

"Best friends," he amended, looking at me cautiously. "But I like you, Rose. More than I'd care to admit. More than a friend, even."

I blinked. "Oh."

"Yeah," he said awkwardly, standing up and looking at his feet. "Well, now that you've got your answer, I'll be leaving."

He picked up the invisibility cloak, ready to disappear under it, and something in me clicked, realising exactly what he was saying.

"Scorpius, wait!" I called out, reaching out. I cringed as pain shot up my spine, and noticing my pained expression, he rushed to my side, looking concerned.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah I just-"

"I shouldn't have come. I think you should just lay down-"

"Scorpius-"

"You know what, just ignore whatever I said, it was-"

He was rambling again. This must be a nervous habit.

"Scorpius!" I called exasperatedly, and loudly.

"Shh!" he said anxiously, looking over his shoulder. "Madame Clearwater might wake up!"

"Well, then will you just sit down and listen to me, Malfoy?" I grumbled.

He finally stopped speaking and sat down. He looked at me uneasily.

"When did you first...?"

He was silent for a while, the murmured, "The summer before fifth year."

I beamed at him. "I beat you to it."

"Huh?"

"Come here," I gestured him to move closer to me with my index finger. He cautiously moved forward, and I impatiently grabbed the front of his shirt as soon as he was within my reach. His body jerked forward and he stumbled out of the chair.

"What the hell-"

Ignoring him, I sighed, saying, "I'm not going to kill you," exasperatedly.

"I'd never know," he mumbled, as he finally bent over the railing, until his face was five inches from mine.

I abruptly realised I hadn't brushed my teeth since the morning of the game.

Oh what the hell. You only live once.

But you also only get a first kiss once.

"Er, Rose?"

I looked up at him. "Yeah?"

"What am I doing?" he asked cautiously, looking baffled at my sudden silence.

"End of fourth year!" I announced loudly. "I beat you to it."

"No," he said.

"Yes," I nodded eagerly, ignoring the heavy throbbing. I made a mental note to get more painkillers from Madame Clearwater once Scorpius left.

"You're joking," he deadpanned.

"No I'm not," I said adamantly, and pulled his shirt forward violently. He raised a hand to press against the wall, effectively preventing his head from colliding with my bruised skull.

"Bloody hell, woman, you're going to kill yourself," he laughed, incredulous at my eagerness.

"Don't care," I muttered, and pushed myself upright. As I jostled, my nose brushed against his.

"You're not pulling my leg, are you?"

"End of fourth year," I insisted.

He smiled serenely at me, and he reached up, tracing my jawline with his thumb.

Butterflies did the tango in the insides of my empty stomach.

"I haven't brushed my teeth since the morning of the game," I warned.

"Don't care," he mumbled.

Then he kissed me.

Well, that was one hell of a way to kill the pain.

* * *

 _ **AN: Don't forget to review!**_


End file.
